


Just the two of us

by YoungR0se



Category: Loki - Fandom, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Erotica, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Foot Massage, Hurt/Comfort, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Light Dom/sub, Love, One Shot, POV Original Female Character, Sex, Slow Burn, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-11
Updated: 2020-11-12
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:42:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,980
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27503236
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YoungR0se/pseuds/YoungR0se
Summary: After a battle, Loki needs some TLC.
Relationships: Loki (Marvel)/Original Female Character(s), Loki (Marvel)/Reader
Comments: 14
Kudos: 67





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So, I've been totally submerged in Loki fanfiction for a while, and hence I am writing something of my own. This could be set in any time and does not refer to any comic or film, it's simply a little story about Loki and his lover/wife and how she takes care of him after a battle.  
> Many thanks, hugs and kisses to Kaogasm and baby_novak_winchester_67 for their beautiful stories.  
> Note to those unfamiliar with the word 'possum': it's a small marsupial, native to the Southern hemisphere (not to be confused with it's Northern hemisphere relative, the opossum). In my experience, possums are friendly once you get to know them, adorable, strong-willed and quite mischievous. Just like a certain someone... 
> 
> Welcome to my imagination!

_He does not love her for her beauty._

_He loves her for her_ _determination_ _, her smile,_

_and because she sings a song only he can understand._

_She doesn’t love him for his looks._

_She loves him for_ _his strength,_ _how he looks at her,_

 _and_ _because_ _he speak_ _s_ _directly_ _to her heart_ _and soul_ _._

I stand on our balcony, looking out over the remains of the battle. The invasion was well planned and brutal, but not a match for our army, especially with Loki to lead it. It had lasted a few days and had been a vicious encounter, as I had seen from my assigned post in the medical wing, helping the wounded. There were many casualties on both sides, and some of our best warriors had fallen; the loss of life and the damage done to those who had survived was terrible. A tear runs down my cheek as I gaze out over the ravaged township; I hate war.

My ears prick up at the sound of weary footsteps approaching, then Loki stumbles into our chambers and leans against the wall, kicking the door shut, too exhausted to move further into the room. I am already halfway to him but I slow and put a hand over my mouth as I take in his appearance. Blood mixes with dirt and ash, smearing his handsome face in grime. His hair is matted and stiff, plastered to his head with sweat. The golden helmet clangs on the stone floor as it falls from trembling fingers. As I draw nearer his eyes flick up, bloodshot from smoke and exhaustion; his expression is blank, cold and distant. Closed. I take his face between my palms and stare deep in his eyes, but I find nothing. His mask is securely in place.

“Hey,” I whisper, “I’m here, it’s okay. You can let go now.” He stares into my eyes for a long moment, shallow breathing getting more and more erratic, then twists away from me with an imperious sneer.

“Do not turn your back on me, Trickster,” I snap. He turns, eyebrows drawn together in surprise; I run my finger between them, smoothing the crease, giving him a soft smile. "I know it's an old habit, never letting anyone see what you really feel, but we agreed to change that, didn’t we?" I stroke my fingers along his jaw. “Only the coldest of hearts could endure what you have over the last few days and not be affected, and I know your heart, Loki, and it is _not_ cold, despite what you like to claim.” He leans into my touch now, eyes glistening but still distant. “Tears are not a sign of weakness, they show that you are in pain. They show that you care, and I know that you care about the people with whom you have fought side-by-side, those you have seen injured or killed. _Please_ don't hide your true feelings from me. Please."

His facade cracks open with a ragged sigh and tears well in his beautiful green eyes and flow down his cheeks, carving tracks through the grime.

“I'm here for you, possum, come to me," I murmur and he steps into my embrace. I pull him into me, not caring about the filth, holding him as sobs silently shake him. He wraps his arms around me so tight I can barely draw breath, his armour cold and unforgiving against my body; I sway us slowly side to side, one arm around his waist, the other hand stroking his hair. He keeps his face buried in my shoulder, tears soaking into my dress as I murmur and whisper sweet nothings in his ear. When he calms, I lift his head and look deep into his eyes. He gives me a small, abashed smile and tries to look away. I pull him back to face me.

“What did I just tell you,” I half scold him.

“I’m sorry," His voice is husky. He sighs and cups my hand where it rests against his cheek. "How am I worthy of one such as you, my love?"

I answer the same way I always do: “By being yourself.” I stretch up and kiss him, tasting sweat and dirt and blood. “Now, let’s get you cleaned up. Don't use your magic; let me take care of you tonight, okay?" He nods and I smile brightly. "Great. I'll get the bath running…"

When I return, he is standing exactly as I'd left him, swaying slightly. I undo the straps that hold his breastplate to the backplate, standing on tiptoes to lift the heavy metal and leather combination over his head, then I unbuckle the rest of the protective pieces from his arms and legs. Leaving it all in a pile, I take his hand and pull him gently toward the bathroom, where I push him down to sit on the edge of the tub so I can work off his boots. The cut of the dress and my position at his feet gives him an excellent view of my cleavage; I catch him watching me with hooded eyes, an appreciative smile playing on his lips and I feel a wash of pride. When I pull his shirt up and over his head I draw in a soft gasp at the state of his body, covered as it is with busies.

“Dear gods, possum…” I trace the discoloured outline of the breastplate that has been impressed into the skin of his shoulder, where he has obviously taken a hard hit. “If this is what you look like _with_ the armour, I don’t want to imagine the state you’d be in _without_ it." I try to make my voice light and teasing but he sees through to my real concern, taking my hand and squeezing it before bringing it to his lips, not taking his eyes off my face.

“I’ll be fine, love. It looks worse than it is, I assure you. I just need a little time. Do not fret.”

I smile and give him a peck on the cheek. "I know, but I do it anyway. Now get up so I can take these off," I twitch my fingers at his pants, then see his expression and huff in mock outrage, “And wipe that look off your face, mister!” He continues to smirk at me as I unlace his leather pants, a hand on my shoulder for balance as he steps out of them, revealing even more bruises and abrasions littering his legs. By now the bath is full and I turn off the taps.

“In the middle, sit,” I say as I pull my dress off and toss it aside. He gives me an enquiring look but does as he’s told, settling down with a sigh into the hot water. I get in behind him, making sure the soap and sponges are within my reach before sitting down and pulling him into my lap. His head rests on my shoulder, my knees on either side of his waist. I press a kiss to his temple and his eyes close as I clean his face of dirt and blood. He moans softly when I wash his hair, taking my time and being methodical and gentle, combing my fingers through the raven locks and clearing away the worst of the knots and filth. I run a rough, soapy sponge all over him, scrubbing at the more resilient grime until the water around us is murky. I reach down and pull out the plug, turn on the taps and rinse away the reminder of the battle, then put the plug back in. We sit together as the tub refills, my arms around his chest, him resting against me, head on my shoulder, breath caressing my ear. I add some scented oils to the water and soon we are surrounded by the light aroma of springtime. When we are submerged, I go over him again with a soft wash-cloth, then start to gently caress his face and run my fingers through his hair, massaging his scalp, neck and shoulders before moving down his arms. His breathing slows and I think he may be drifting into sleep, but occasionally a sharp intake of breath tells me I’ve found a particularly sore spot. I take his large, long-fingered hands and knead them, rubbing away the tension and stress. As the water around us begins to get too tepid for comfort, I press my lips to his cheek.

“Time to get out, possum,” I whisper, kissing him softly again when a small frown forms on his peaceful face. "I know you don't want to move, but it's getting cold and the bed will feel so much better now, hmm?" He mumbles something about being fine where he is but opens his eyes anyway. I smile down at him and trace my fingers along his jawline.

“Come on now, poss; a soft bed and a warm woman are awaiting you,” I croon, then chuckle at his expression and continue, “Or is it a warm bed and a soft woman?”

“Either way, I’ll take it.” He whispers with a reverential look. My heart swells and I kiss him slowly, letting all my love for him flow through me and into the kiss. We get out and I wrap myself in a towel, then dry him off.

We forgo the bed and curl up in front of the fire in a nest of furs, blankets and pillows. He lays behind me, his knees fitting into the back of mine; his left arm under my neck, my head on a pillow; his other arm drapes over my ribs and slides between my breasts, his hand resting over my heart. He kisses the top of my head and whispers, "Thank you."

“What for, poss?”

He takes a deep breath, “For putting up with me, for being here, doing all this, taking care of me…”

I twist toward him. In the firelight, his eyes glow as he looks down at me.

"Oh, Loki," I kiss his lips softly, “You are more than welcome, and it was my pleasure. I love you.” I kiss him again, and this time he takes over, kissing me with such a slow, deep passion that I think I might melt. When he pulls away, he rests his forehead against mine.

“Beloved,” he whispers, breath brushing my lips, “My reason, my light when all else is dark, the one truth that remains pure in this ravaged heart. My angel, I love you.”

Tears well at his heartfelt words and I place my hand over his on my cheek. “What did I ever do to deserve you, my prince?”

He smiles and kisses me again. “You were being yourself.”

I chuckle and snuggle back against him, interlacing my fingers with his over my heart. “Go to sleep, possum. I’ll be here when you wake.”

A sigh ruffles my hair and his breathing slows. I bask in the warmth of the fire in front and Loki behind me, the reassuring feel of his arms around me, his torso moving against my back as we breathe in sync. Before long, I too drift into a deep, dreamless sleep.


	2. Just the two of us

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a few hours of sleep, it's time for some loving.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I'm really super nervous about posting this, given the content, but I literally sat up till midnight writing it!  
> The story picks up where it left off, leading to some (okay, a lot of!) intimate moments. Fluff, love, delayed gratification, smut (I guess?), but it's not really the destination that matters, it's the journey.  
> I'll just summarise: they make love - there, you've been warned.
> 
> Welcome to my fantasy...

A nuzzling in the side of my neck pulls me slowly from my slumber. I hum sleepily, turning in the arms that hold me close, pressing myself into the warm body beside me. Light kisses trail seductively over my skin, from my shoulder up to my neck, then a warm tongue flicks at my earlobe.

“Hello there, love” Loki breathes, delicately tracing the curves and ridges with his tongue. I moan and shiver as he explores my ear, firmly holding my jaw to stop me squirming at the touch he knows drives me wild.

“Loki…?”

“Yes, love?”

“There’s something I…” I trail off, my thoughts derailed by the exquisite feeling of teeth on my neck.

“Hmm?”

“Something I want…”

He kisses slowly down my throat and delves his tongue into the hollow between my collarbones. “What do you want, pet?”

I grab his hair and pull him away from my neck. “I want to be able to think straight!” I laugh and he grins toothily down at me.

“Oh dear, am I distracting you?” He cocks an eyebrow in mock concern, his hand now trailing slowly down my body.

“You know full well what you do to me…” My eyes close involuntarily as his fingers ghost over my breast, but when they reach my belly and show no signs of stopping, I grab his hand.

“Loki, there’s something I want to do, but I can’t if you keep short-circuiting my higher cognitive functions.”

He chuckles, “Sounds like they’re working just fine to me, love. What is it that you want?”

I bring his hand to my lips and kiss his knuckles, slightly swollen and discoloured from the fighting, looking at him through my lashes. “I would like – with your permission, of course – to continue and elaborate upon the massage I gave you in the bath.” I interlace my fingers with his and pull him down gently, arching my back and pressing my breasts into his chest. His eyes never leave mine. I bat my lashes at him, laying on the flattery with a trowel, “I know you must be so _terribly_ tired and sore after all that _valiant_ fighting, and absolutely _exhausted_ from all that _masterful_ spell-casting. You need some special, loving care and attention, darling.” I can barely keep the smirk off my face as I rock my hips gently against his abdomen, feeling his body stiffen slightly with my movement. “Will you let me take good care of you, my prince?” He is staring at me with such a look of hungry adoration, I can’t help but giggle a little and stretch up to kiss the tip of his nose, which makes him chuckle. “What do you say, possum? I know you like to be in charge, but will you let me take the reins tonight?”

He kisses me thoroughly, making my mind hazy with pleasure before drawing back and caressing my cheek reverentially. “Yes, of course, love. Do what you will; I am yours to command.”

“I love you, Loki.”

“As I, you, my angel.”

I kiss him lightly and wiggle out from under him. “Lie on your front.” He gets comfortable and I pause. “Hey, you know how I said don’t use your magic earlier?”

“Mhmm?”

“Well, if you’re feeling up to it, I could use some oil…” A bowl appears in a green shimmer. “Thanks, poss. You’ll appreciate it.” He snorts and starts to grumble about always having to do something but it is cut off by an appreciative groan when my oily fingers dig into the tight muscles of his shoulders. I kneel above him and use my weight to amplify my movements, smoothing the knots in his muscles, kneading from his neck down his shoulder and along his arm. I try to avoid pressing on the bruises and I notice some are starting to fade already. When I reach his hand, I think idly of all the things they have done as I work my fingers into the flesh of his palm, spreading and stretching it. A few of his knuckles click.

“You know,” I murmur, “If I had to choose, your hands are one of my favourite parts.” He makes an enquiring noise, eyes still closed, completely lost in the sensation. I smile to myself, taking time with his fingers. “They are beautiful, strong yet shapely. They can grasp mighty weapons, but also draw the finest calligraphic script. They can inflict great pain, but can also bring great pleasure.” I feel the heat rising in my cheeks as I tenderly kiss each fingertip before moving on to the other arm. When that is done, I straddle his hips and work over his back thoroughly, skull to pelvis, occasionally leaning down to place a soft kiss on some random place, then I slide off and go over his butt and down his legs, paying extra attention to his calves, ankles and feet. Throughout the experience, Loki makes soft noises of appreciation, but when I dig my thumbs into the sole of his left foot, he moans loudly and curses.

“By the Norns, love…”

“I’ve heard that on Midgard, there is a branch of medicine that considers the sole of the foot to mirror the body of the individual,” I say conversationally, watching with satisfaction as Loki’s hands clench and twitch in time with my touch; I know he loves having his feet massaged but he can also be very ticklish. I wiggle my fingers between his toes, inciting a desperate noise that is muffled by the pillow in which he has hidden his face. I smile to myself and move to the other foot. “I’ve heard that practitioners of the discipline can ascertain their patient's malady, whatever it may be, wherever in the body, and sometimes even cure it, simply by manipulation of the feet. I know nothing about it, unfortunately; just thought it was interesting.”

“I’m glad you do not know of it,” He gasps, “Otherwise I suspect this would be even more torturous.”

“You call this torture?” I ask with a dangerous smile, which I’m sure he can hear in my voice.

“Uh…I didn’t mean -"

“Would you _like_ me to torture you? To make you _beg_?”

A snort. “I don't beg.”

“Oh really?” I grin evilly, “Challenge accepted, possum. Role over.” I crawl up beside him, swaying my hips sensually. His eyes rake over my form, drinking me in. I swing my leg over his hips and settle myself on his lower abdomen, letting my weight rest on him.

“Now, where were we?” I reach my hands up to his neck, smoothing the muscles along the front of his shoulders and down his arms again. Now that he is watching me, I calculate my movements to best display my body in the firelight – I’m not as fit as he by any means, but I am certainly not lacking muscle mass, either; I can hold my own in a fight, and I often do. His hand that I’m not currently attending to starts to trace a distracting pattern on the skin of my thigh. I swat at him playfully; he just smirks and lets it rest on my leg.

“You said something earlier, about my hands…”

“I said I liked them.” A blush creeps up my face again; I know exactly where this is going.

“Mm, but specifically, something about them being able to, what was it now?” He casts his eyes to the ceiling theatrically, “Oh, yes – bring great pleasure?”

Bingo. “What of it, poss?”

His voice drops to a seductive purr, “Are there, by chance, any other attributes of mine that bring you pleasure?”

I smile as innocently as I can while working my fingers across his pectorals and down his chest. My movement causes my breasts to shift and sway; I see his hand twitch, and I know he desperately wants to touch me.

“Why yes, there are, as a matter of fact. I like your mouth, how it always has a smile for me, the way you speak to me when there is no one else to hear. I love how your lips feel against mine, and I especially like what you can do with your tongue.” I blush again, but plough on. “I love your eyes, how they light up when you see me. Yours are so beautiful, Loki. Don’t they say that the eyes are the gateway to the soul? So I can safely say you have a beautiful soul. But I digress,” I flash him an evil grin, “Because I suspect that your question refers to something else, specifically. Something that is making itself known against my backside, if I’m not mistaken.” I brace my hands on his chest and wiggle my hips a little, feeling a jolt of arousal in the pit of my stomach at the feel of his erection pressing into my butt. “Mm, thought so.” I lean forward slowly, letting my weight creep up his torso until I’m lying on his chest and my lips are brushing his throat.

“Does that feel good, darling?” I murmur seductively. His hands grip my hips as I slide my tongue around the shell of his ear.

He swallows thickly, “You have… no idea.”

I kiss along his jaw and down the column of his throat. “Have I pleased you, my prince?” He makes a strangled noise as I nibble delicately around his Adam’s apple.

“I’ll take that as a yes. Now, now – don’t you go getting all excited, I spent _such_ a long time getting rid of all that _tension_. Just let it all wash over you. Relax, darling…” I murmur, sucking lightly on the join of his neck and shoulder before biting down suddenly. Loki gasps and his hips buck under me but I am too far up his torso to reach. I chuckle darkly as he moans and curses under his breath.

“Damn it, woman!” He huffs in exasperation, “How can you expect me to relax while you’re doing that?”

“Doing what, sire?” I ask, all innocence, as I lick along his collarbone and down his sternum.

“That…”

“What, this?” I caress his left pectoral, running my fingers along the bottom of the muscle where it joins his chest and flicking the tip of my tongue across his nipple.

“Yes, that…” His throws his head back into the pillows, face slack with pleasure.

“Ah, yes - I can see how that might _excite_ you. What about this?” I do the same to the other side, the only response this time being a desperate moan, then shuffle down his body and dip my tongue into his belly button, kissing and nibbling around his defined abdomen. He convulses beneath me, fingers digging into my arms. I shuffle further down between his legs and sit up.

“What are you…?” His question becomes a deep-throated growl and his eyes close as I trail my fingers lightly up his thighs, increasing pressure as I sweep up and across his pelvis. His manhood twitches, laying thick and heavy against his stomach, but I don’t touch it yet. I continue to stroke and massage his thighs and lower abdomen. His hands curl and grip at the furs. I take my time, teasing him mercilessly, sometimes getting so close to his erection that I know he thinks I’m finally going to touch him, then backing away, always moving, varying speed and pressure to keep him off balance.

Finally, I hear it, so soft as to be nearly inaudible, easily missed amongst the gasps and sighs that tumble from his mouth; I slow my movements and lean forward, cocking my head. “What was that, darling?”

He goes absolutely still, but I brush my fingers through the bristly hair around his shaft and he bucks against my hand and blurts out, “Please!”

“Please what, darling?”

He covers his face with both hands, “Please… I can’t take it any longer.”

I smile triumphantly. “Are you _begging_ me, possum?”

“Yes! Yes, I beg of you, _please_ , end this torture!”

“But of course, my prince. Your wish is my command.” I take my hands off him and sit still, hands folded in my lap, a devious smiles twitching my lips.

He looks at me through his fingers, "What...?"

"Oh dear, you really are quite distracted, aren't you?"

He pushes himself up on his elbows, blinking in confusion.

"This is so _unlike_ you, Loki. Think about what you just said to me. End this torture?" I held up my open hands. "I have ended it."

"I didn't mean it like that -"

A laugh bubbles up at his look of panicked desperation. "Oh, possum! I'm only teasing; it's not often I get to beat the Silvertongue at his own game. Forgive me my petty indulgences, my darling."

I slide my hands one more time up his legs, this time continuing through the patch of hair to caress him. He falls back onto the furs with a sigh of pure bliss as I lower my head, pressing my lips to the soft skin. I explore him with my fingers, lips and tongue. He keeps up a steady barrage of moans, groans and sighs, twitching and squirming under my ministrations. I investigate him thoroughly with my mouth, holding onto his hips to stop him bucking, my thumbs rubbing soothing circles over the hipbones. With one last, torturously slow lick up the length of him, I raise my head and shuffle up his body to kiss his gasping mouth. His eyes are squeezed shut, but then they open and he stares up at me. The look he gives me makes me feel like a goddess.

“I love you,” I murmur, kissing him passionately, my breath speeding up now that I have stopped concentrating solely on his pleasure. His hands come up to tangle in my hair, pulling me further into the kiss, but I sit up and shuffle back until I’m positioned above his throbbing erection. His hands slide down my arms and come to rest, gripping my thighs.

“I –” His voice breaks and he clears his throat, "I’m not going to last a minute if you start riding me.”

“I know, baby,” I lean down to kiss him briefly. “Tonight is for you, especially; just for you. But in saying that, do you know how it makes _me_ feel to see you like this? To see you completely undone by my hands, my mouth?”

He swallows and shakes his head slightly. I rise and take his hard length in my hand and press him gently into my own arousal. A tingling warmth washes through me at the contact and my lubrication drips down his length. His fingers knead my flesh and his eyes screw up in ecstasy.

“Do you feel that?” I swivel my hips over him teasingly, coating him in my moisture. It takes him a few tries before he manages to gasp, “Uh-huh.”

“You did that to me, darling. You wind me up inside. This whole time I’ve been touching you, making you feel good, you’ve been touching me too. There has been an ache growing inside me that only you can heal.” I start to sink onto him, gasping as the head slides past a ridge inside. “Oh, dear gods, how you fill me.” I bottom out, resting my pelvis on his, feeling wondrously complete. I beckon him up with open arms, “Come to me, baby.”

He surges up into a sitting position, hands roving my body, mouth on my neck. I sigh and moan as I roll my hips against him, not riding so much as rocking. We are both so aroused that even the slightest movement feels divine. Loki bites into my shoulder and trails his hot breath up my neck, delving his tongue into my ear. I cry out and rake my nails up his back as pleasure grows and pulsates through me. We rock perfectly in sync. He buries his face in the crook of my neck, desperate breaths becoming gasps; his hand clenches in my hair, pulling my head back and arching my spine so he can lave his tongue across my breasts, kissing and suckling; I card my fingers through his hair, pressing his face into my chest. He kisses up my throat before claiming my mouth, tongue brushing my lips delicately despite the passion of the kiss. I can feel my release fast approaching, and I pull him flush against me.

“Cum for me, my prince,” I whisper, and bite his neck just below his ear. He lets out a purely instinctual wail of pleasure that reaches inside me and flips the switch. My orgasm washes through me like a tsunami, my walls clench tightly and pulsate around him, making him cry out again as his climax takes him. Through the haze of divine bliss, I feel his hot release hit my core and it sends me spiralling even higher, collapsing against him in uncontrolled spasms of pleasure as my world explodes.

When I come back into my body, we are sprawled in the furs, me atop him, still joined. I snuggle into his chest, feeling wetness from my joyful tears, listening to his racing heart as his breathing slowly calms; I drift in the warmth, a blissed-out smile on my face. The smouldering fire crackles soothingly. After a while, he stirs to take my face in his hands to kiss me slowly, tenderly, with such a look of wonderment in his eyes that more tears prick behind mine. I shift up to reach his face better and feel him slide out of me, the sensation sending quivering aftershocks up my spine and making us both groan, his arms tightening around me.

“Beloved, you are a goddess,” he murmurs, finger tracing lazily up and down my spine, “I am the luckiest man in all the realms that you have chosen me. I love you.”

I move off him to the side, curling into the crook of his shoulder. “The way you look at me, I _feel_ like a goddess. You understand me like no one else. Although I often say this in jest, I mean it most sincerely: you are, in every sense of the phrase, my prince,” My voice quavers and a tear slides down my cheek, “And I love you with all my heart and soul.”

We share a gentle kiss before he sighs and buries his nose in my hair. I drift into the limbo before sleep, my cheek resting on his chest, his arms around me, his scent in my nose, heart beating steadily under my ear: my version of Valhalla.


End file.
